Chapter 85

Luo Han rushed to Wentian Gate as fast as she could. The gate was packed—people crowded around the entrance, pointing and arguing loudly.
“What happened? What’s going on?”
“No idea. Sounds like someone went mad and started killing inside.”
“Went mad? That can’t be—this is Zhongshan! The patriarch, the elders, and the eldest young master are all here. I heard the second young master also returned today.”
One disciple glanced around and lowered his voice: “It is the second young master. Word is, he injured the eldest in the Western Sea. The patriarch and his wife are furious, and now he’s flying into a rage and trying to kill.”
“What?” the disciple who was listening looked completely shocked. “Why...why would he?”
The speaker shrugged, wearing a you-know-I-know-but-we-can’t-say look. “There is no filial piety in the imperial clan. What other reason could there be?”
Just then, Luo Han passed by and heard that exact sentence. Her face turned cold as she walked straight toward the speaker. “Did you see him lose control?”
The disciple turned around and was visibly stunned. He clearly hadn’t expected such a face to exist in the real world—every feature perfectly aligned with his aesthetic ideals. He was even more shocked that such an untouchable beauty was talking to him.
The disciple, overwhelmed, pointed at himself. “Are...are you talking to me?”
Luo Han’s expression remained icy. She didn’t have the approachable air of a sweet girl-next-door, nor the warm grace of a noble lady. Her presence was ethereal, distant, like a beam of celestial light or a jade statue on a divine altar—someone too far above to touch.
She had been dreading something happening to Ling Qingxiao. And now, she had only just reached the gate and already heard his name being tossed around with words like “went mad” and “murder.” Her concern solidified into something real. Already in a bad mood, she heard these baseless rumors and felt a rush of fury.
“You saw him go mad? You saw him kill someone? Then what gives you the right to say that?”
The disciple was at a loss. “B-but...everyone’s saying it.”
“Then if it turns out to be false, will you apologize to him?”
Luo Han stared him down, and not just him—her cold gaze swept across everyone in the crowd.
She said slowly, “Words have weight. Once spoken, you’re responsible. Don’t think that just because you hide in a crowd, the law won’t touch you. Even if you forget—Heaven and Earth remember.”
"Watch your words and take responsibility for them."
The area in front of Wentian Gate was packed with people, but now it was dead silent. Luo Han swept a cold gaze over the crowd, lifted the hem of her robes, and continued running inward.
The pitch-black Devourer Beast followed behind her, its four hooves striking sharp, rhythmic sounds on the stone steps. No one dared speak, nor did anyone dare block the way. Silently, the crowd parted, watching as one girl and one beast entered the chaos like a beam of light diving into the storm.
·
The moment Su Yifang saw Ling Qingxiao make a move, her heart skipped a beat in fright. She instinctively gathered spiritual energy and struck at him.
Su Yifang had remained at the mid-tier Celestial Immortal realm for years. Though her cultivation had stagnated, a full-force strike from her was still formidable. Ling Qingxiao could have easily deflected the attack, but he didn’t. Instead, he simply took a step to the side.
He moved only slightly, and Su Yifang’s spiritual energy barely grazed his robes before smashing a stone statue behind him to pieces. White shards exploded in all directions, clattering like a rain of stone. Su Yifang's face turned pale. She stared at Ling Qingxiao, unmoving, lips trembling—but in the end, she couldn’t say a word.
What could she possibly say? One son wanted to kill the other—what could she do to make things right for both?
Ling Qingxiao looked at the scene before him. Su Yifang had attacked him without hesitation. Bai Lingluan threw herself protectively in front of Ling Zhongyu without a second thought. Su Yinyue and Yun Menghan were already gripping their weapons. Everyone stood united against him, watching him with wary eyes.
It was exactly like the day of the lightning tribulation.
Time was cruel. Everything repeated. Some things, it turned out, never changed.
Bai Lingluan and Su Yinyue guarded Ling Zhongyu. Yun Menghan’s eyes filled with tears as she pleaded softly, “Second Young Master, please stop fighting. If you want something, I’ll give it back to you a thousand times over—just don’t go after Zhongyu anymore, okay?”
Once upon a time, Yun Menghan’s tears had been incredibly effective—but now, they no longer stirred even the slightest ripple in Ling Qingxiao’s heart. What did he want? He wanted nothing. He was only reclaiming what was his.
Yun Menghan had probably never realized how biased her position was. Everything she did was rooted in protecting Ling Zhongyu, yet she still thought herself kind, fair, and selfless.
Now that Ling Qingxiao came to take back what belonged to him, Yun Menghan wept and begged for peace, saying vengeance only breeds more vengeance. But back when Ling Zhongyu was the one hurting others—where was she?
Ling Qingxiao closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the light in them was even firmer. He couldn’t win, couldn’t compare—but he accepted that. Still, the matter of the dragon core had to be resolved today.
Suddenly, Ling Qingxiao moved. And in that instant, everyone clearly felt—it was real this time.
This was his true power. All this time, Ling Qingxiao hadn’t been fighting seriously. They’d thought he had changed, grown colder and more distant. But now that he moved in earnest, they finally realized how terrifying he truly was.
Everyone's expressions changed. Su Yinyue frantically hurled magic treasures outward, Su Yifang didn’t care if she might injure him accidentally and hurled spell after spell at Ling Qingxiao. But none of it mattered. In the blink of an eye, Ling Qingxiao's sword tip was already approaching Ling Zhongyu.
That casual sword strike earlier had nearly knocked Ling Zhongyu down—now that Ling Qingxiao was serious, how could he possibly dodge?
Seeing the sword aura about to strike, Bai Lingluan—who lacked both cultivation and powerful artifacts—had only one thing to offer: her life. She suddenly threw herself in front of Ling Zhongyu, arms wide, protecting him as she cried out, “If you want to hurt him, you’ll have to kill me first!”
Ling Qingxiao’s heart had been hard as stone, but the moment his blade touched Bai Lingluan, he couldn’t go further. For a thousand years, he had believed she was his mother.
Even though she’d been cold and distant, her emotional abuse never ceasing, he had still treated her as a birth mother, the most important person in his life.
Their eyes met. Ling Qingxiao’s sword froze in place. In that brief moment of hesitation, a powerful burst of spiritual energy struck his blade from behind, knocking it aside.
Ling Xianhong had arrived. Seeing the scene before him, he roared in fury: “You ungrateful brat! What are you doing? You dare try to kill your mother?!”
Ling Xianhong couldn’t believe his eyes. Ling Qingxiao had aimed his sword at Bai Lingluan—if he hadn’t arrived in time, she would’ve died by this unfilial son’s hand!
As Ling Qingxiao’s sword dropped, Bai Lingluan finally seemed able to breathe again. She clutched her chest, her breath heaving. Ling Zhongyu quickly caught her and asked anxiously, “Mother, are you alright?”
Bai Lingluan shook her head. She knew—it wasn’t Ling Xianhong who stopped the strike. It was Ling Qingxiao...who held back.
After Ling Xianhong’s angry outburst, the scene fell deathly silent. No one said a word. People stood scattered around the edges, while only Ling Qingxiao stood alone in the center—against everyone.
Ling Qingxiao’s fingers twitched slightly, and everyone tensed, ready to kill him if needed.
How ironic. Sword in hand, Ling Qingxiao asked coldly,
“You were the ones who said, when we returned from Xi’er Mi Sea, everything would be returned to its rightful place.”
“I did promise you that,” Su Yifang said, frowning. “But look at yourself now—mad, deranged, no longer like an immortal, more like a demon! How can I trust you and ask Zhongyu to take such a risk?”
“So I’m always the one who has to take the risk,” Ling Qingxiao said slowly. “No matter what happens, I’m always the one who must compromise. I’m not allowed to compete with Ling Zhongyu. I can’t act first. Everything has to wait until he gives it up—then, and only then, can I stretch out a hand and receive it.”
“I’m not even a real person. In your eyes, I’m just his accessory. As long as I don’t threaten his interests, you’ll show me kindness. But the moment I do, all of you say I’m ungrateful.”
As Ling Qingxiao spoke, Su Yifang and Yun Menghan both looked away. Su Yifang wanted to refute him, say that wasn’t true—but the words stuck in her throat. Somehow, they all felt hollow.
She wanted her two sons to get along, wanted everything to stay the same—because Ling Zhongyu was already the one benefiting from the status quo.
Ling Zhongyu had inherited the honor of being the legitimate eldest son and the backing of both the Ling and Su clans. Since childhood, he had received the best education and cultivation resources, growing up surrounded by love and respect. Naturally, he could say with ease that it was fine for the two of them to get along.
But what about Ling Qingxiao? He merely didn’t want to share a room with the one responsible for his suffering—what exactly was his crime?
“You want me to submit to this family and expect no complaints. To be gentle and humble, but also self-reliant, and never reach for what the family offers.” Ling Qingxiao stood in the center, surrounded on all sides by those who were both his relatives and his enemies. “You gave me life—but you also gave me a lifetime of pain. Though I have parents and family, in truth, I’ve always been alone.”
His tone held neither joy nor sorrow, as though his emotions had long been extinguished.
Suddenly, the sword intent around him surged. The tip of his blade turned sharply toward Ling Zhongyu. “If Heaven will not grant it, I will take it for myself. If my parents will not uphold justice—I will.”
Ling Qingxiao unleashed killing intent. The instant he moved, the others barely had time to register it before they launched attacks against him.
Ling Zhongyu alone wasn’t the issue. The real difficulty lay in those standing in front of him.
His father, his birth and foster mothers, his cousin, his fellow disciples—each one of them counted on Ling Qingxiao’s unwillingness to strike to kill. So they confidently threw themselves in front of Ling Zhongyu, launching their fiercest attacks without hesitation. It was a chaotic melee, the battlefield shifting constantly, danger lurking with every movement. Yet those spells weren’t what threatened him most—it was these people who stood as knives pointed at his heart.
Ling Qingxiao focused solely on Ling Zhongyu, strike after strike pressing in—but every time, someone risked their life to shield Zhongyu from harm. One sweeping strike carried toward Ling Zhongyu, its energy crashing down—but just before it hit, Bai Lingluan leapt forward to block it.
Ling Qingxiao didn’t move. Neither did Ling Zhongyu.
This was a game—whoever flinched first, lost. When the sword energy brushed the hem of Bai Lingluan’s robe, Ling Qingxiao couldn’t bear it. He pulled back.
Ling Zhongyu, from beginning to end, never dodged. Taking advantage of the moment when Ling Qingxiao withdrew and couldn’t recover in time, he suddenly struck from behind Bai Lingluan with a surprise palm attack.
Ling Qingxiao sensed it, but at that same moment, Su Yifang’s spell descended. He had no choice but to turn and block.
The attack wasn’t serious—he had intended to take it head-on—but then, behind him, an invisible barrier rose, softly dispersing the blow.
Ling Zhongyu turned back in surprise. Around them, more water-like shields began rising one after another, shifting like ripples, appearing and disappearing unpredictably. Su Yinyue hadn’t even reacted before she found herself locked outside the water screen.
She immediately pulled out a talisman and struck the barrier with all her strength. It shimmered but held firm. She was stunned. Looking around, she realized it wasn’t just her—Su Yifang, Ling Xianhong, even Bai Lingluan and Yun Menghan were all excluded from within.
In the blink of an eye, only Ling Qingxiao and Ling Zhongyu remained inside.
Seeing who was behind her, Su Yinyue’s expression darkened. “It’s you?”
The glow in Luo Han’s hands slowly faded as she openly admitted, “Yes, it’s me.”
Su Yinyue had seen Luo Han’s face once before and immediately recognized her. Her hostility rose. “Why are you here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Luo Han replied calmly. “I’ve come to uphold the will of Heaven. If it’s a duel, then let it be fair—one against one. If you want a group battle, then count me in. A whole crowd against him alone? That’s not right, is it?”
The Devourer Beast trotted over behind her, its big round eyes blinking innocently as it let out a soft “baa” toward the opposition.
If it came to a group fight, the beast might barely count as one more.
Su Yifang, who’d still been figuring out who the mysterious figure was, suddenly recognized her from the conversation. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re Luo Han?”
Luo Han nodded gently. “I am.”
Previously, whenever Luo Han had appeared at Zhongshan, she wore a veiled hat. Now, suddenly standing here with her true face revealed, many people didn’t recognize her at first. When they heard Su Yifang say her name, they were all shocked.
So she was the one—the mysterious woman who had suddenly appeared at Ling Qingxiao’s side, her identity, cultivation, and origin all unknown. Many had speculated: perhaps she was hideously disfigured, or a powerful figure’s illegitimate daughter in hiding...but the truth was far more astonishing than any rumor.
Luo Han, in person, was stunning beyond belief—and her cultivation was equally formidable.
With just a wave of her hand, she’d blocked the combined efforts of Ling Xianhong, Su Yifang, and others. No matter how expensive the treasures thrown against it, no one could break through the barrier. What kind of unfathomable strength did she possess?
Luo Han had rushed over as fast as she could—but even so, she’d arrived too late. The fight had already broken out. She had no choice but to raise a barrier, isolating Ling Qingxiao and Ling Zhongyu.
Because of her position, she couldn’t intervene directly. But clearing obstacles for Ling Qingxiao was another matter. This was how it should be from the beginning—this was a private grudge between Ling Qingxiao and Ling Zhongyu, and it should be resolved between the two of them.
Ling Xianhong had mostly refrained from acting, aside from his first strike. As a high-level immortal, for his two sons to brawl was already humiliating—if he stepped in personally, the entire clan would become a laughingstock. He’d been restraining himself until now. But when Luo Han acted, sealing the two sons within a barrier, he couldn’t hold back any longer. His expression darkened. “This is a family matter of Zhongshan. What business is it of yours?”
“Family matter?” Luo Han looked at the head of the Ling clan and smiled faintly. “Even better. Since it’s a family matter, then let the brothers settle it themselves. No one else should interfere.”
That was exactly what Ling Xianhong and the others couldn’t allow—Ling Qingxiao and Ling Zhongyu fighting one-on-one.
Before his expedition, Ling Qingxiao’s cultivation had already surpassed Ling Zhongyu. Now, after two level advancements, a duel between them would be no different from a slaughter.
Ling Xianhong’s face darkened. He said coldly, “Miss Luo, every nation has its laws, and every family its rules. Please mind your boundaries and do not interfere with Zhongshan’s internal affairs.”
Ling Xianhong had the audacity to bring up the law—Luo Han was instantly fired up. If he wanted a debate, she was more than happy to oblige. “Fine, since you mentioned the law, then let’s be clear today. According to the Heavenly Court’s code, it is only right that murder demands a life, and debts must be repaid. Ling Zhongyu stole Ling Qingxiao’s dragon core. Now the owner is simply reclaiming what was his—how is that unreasonable? If we go by dragon clan rules, each person answers for their own actions. Zhongyu was able to seize Qingxiao’s core because he was stronger back then. Now Qingxiao is back for revenge, and if they fight to the death, win or lose, it's not something anyone can fault.”
Ling Xianhong had held great power for years. He was used to his words being law, never once having to argue. He had no intention of debating with Luo Han. With a wave of his hand, he signaled for the barrier to be opened.
But Luo Han suddenly exerted force, a powerful invisible pressure radiating from her. “I’d like to see who dares.”
While they argued outside, the fight had already broken out inside the water curtain. Ling Qingxiao and Ling Zhongyu had long-standing grudges, and now that there were no bystanders to get in the way, Ling Qingxiao fought without reservation, practically overwhelming Zhongyu.
The difference in power between them was like heaven and earth. With a casual move, Ling Qingxiao forced Ling Zhongyu to exhaust all his strength just to block. It wasn’t even an enjoyable fight—like an adult beating a child. What was the point?
Ling Qingxiao quickly lost interest. The gloom that had weighed on him for years began to lift without him even realizing it. So the person he had once envied and chased after as a child—was this all he amounted to?
Ling Zhongyu noticed Qingxiao seemed distracted and attempted a sneak attack, hiding one hand behind his back. But in the face of absolute power, no trick would succeed.
The spiritual energy around Ling Qingxiao condensed, then burst outward. Zhongyu’s ambush was blocked, and he was knocked to the ground by the backlash. With a loud thud, he hit the ground hard—and before he could get up, Ling Qingxiao’s sword was already at his throat.
Everything happened so quickly. Outside the barrier, Bai Lingluan blinked once and saw her son fall. She blinked again, and Ling Qingxiao’s sword was already pressed to Zhongyu’s neck.
The shock broke Bai Lingluan. She charged at them without a second thought, only to be stopped mid-run by an invisible barrier. She went wild, pounding on the water screen with all her might, ignoring her composure. “Stop it, you lunatic! What are you doing?!”
Her hysterical screams were so shrill they hurt to hear. Everyone stopped fighting and turned toward the scene. The sight inside stunned them all.
Ling Qingxiao’s long, pale hand held his sword. The blade moved from Zhongyu’s throat—then plunged into his chest.
Ling Zhongyu let out a blood-curdling scream, the agony in his voice chilling to the bone. He cared deeply about his image; if he could’ve held it in, he would have. That he screamed like this meant the pain was truly unbearable.
Even strangers found it hard to listen to that sound. Ling Qingxiao, who stood the closest, didn’t flinch. His elegant hand didn’t tremble at all as he moved his sword inside Zhongyu’s chest and began to carve the dragon core out.
The dragon core was the essence of a dragon’s being, no different than the heart in a human. To have one’s chest cut open and the core removed while still alive—it was a pain beyond words.
The watching disciples couldn’t stand the gore. Many covered their ears and turned away. Even the fierce Hunyuan Beast lowered its head. If mere onlookers felt this way, one could only imagine what Zhongyu’s relatives felt, watching him be disemboweled before their eyes.
Bai Lingluan screamed madly, pounding the barrier to get through. Su Yifang was deeply shaken and began attacking Luo Han’s barrier. Su Yinyue, overcome by emotion, suddenly triggered heart palpitations. Yun Menghan was sobbing so hard she looked like a drowned doll, kneeling on the ground, rolling and slamming into the barrier, desperate to break through.
Ling Xianhong hadn’t been this shaken in years. He exploded in fury, spiritual energy surging violently around him. “Wretched son! If you don’t stop, the Ling family will expel you!”
Such a bloody, agonizing scene made everyone watching feel stifled. Yet the one at the center—Ling Qingxiao—seemed utterly unfeeling. His expression was calm. There wasn’t even the slightest sign of hesitation at killing his brother, nor any hint of satisfaction at revenge. He simply looked at Zhongyu’s pitiful state the way one might study a diagram or read a scroll—as if completing a task he had long planned.
Even Luo Han felt queasy. She turned her gaze away but didn’t cover her ears, afraid she’d miss something. She listened to Ling Zhongyu’s cries shift from sharp to hoarse to broken despair. It had only been a few breaths’ time, yet it felt like an eternity.
A few sword strikes later, a lustrous dragon core emerged from Zhongyu’s chest. Ling Qingxiao’s palm tightened, and with a pull, he wrenched it from the bloody cavity.
Zhongyu let out a guttural scream. His voice was nearly gone, but this final cry was the most harrowing of all. After that outburst, he collapsed, seemingly lifeless.
Suspended in Ling Qingxiao’s palm, the dragon core gleamed—smooth, pearly white, with faint blue frost-like patterns. It pulsed with power. The only flaw was a faint wisp of black energy coiling around it, marring its otherwise perfect appearance.
Blood still dripped from the tip of his sword as Ling Qingxiao turned calmly, raising his bloodstained hand for all to see. “I told you—he had demonic energy inside him.”
“You wanted an explanation, so I gave you one. You wanted proof, so I gave you that too. This demonic energy on the core is all the proof you need. What more is there to say?”